The Fallen Huntress
by Buddingwriter1863
Summary: Two-shot now. After barely escaping death with her newborn child, Jayma reflects on the events that led her to where she is now. It is a story of passion, love, and betrayal.
1. The Fallen Huntress

The Fallen Huntress

Darkness descended upon Oros. The valley had never been a very hospitable place to begin with, but at night it became the den of death itself. The Udam had fled after the death of Ull and cowered in their icy home far too north, too afraid to venture south ever again. The Izilia too had long retreated from the cradle of destruction that Oros had become for them, returning to their own lands, never to return. Nature remained, however, and continued to wage its unceasing war against that young, strange new species: _homo sapiens_. It was a war in which, for now and some time afterward, nature would decidedly have the upper hand.

Such was the case in the Valley of Oros, were the plethora of creatures that constituted the deadly biome set out into the darkness to slake one of their greatest instinctual urges: to feed. On this night, a rather large saber-toothed tiger stalked through the trees, its padded feet gliding softly over the ground and allowing the bulky creature to make surprisingly little noise as it stalked its prey. That prey was only a few feet away now, and consisted of a single sample of that _homo sapien_ species that had fought tooth, nail, and tail to earn its right among the apex predators, but not quite at the top of the food chain just yet. The saber-tooth bared its teeth as its mouth salivated in the expectation of a fresh kill.

This particular _homo sapien_ was known by two labels. One was a broad definition of belonging, a title invented by her fellow species in order to form some sort of order in the chaos that was embedded within their world: Wenja. It gave a sense of community to those who went by it, a feeling of common purpose. After all, in a world where everything was intent on their destruction, no man or woman could long survive on their own. No, the _homo sapiens_ had learned ages ago that if they were to survive, they had to work together; they had to form units in the trenches against nature's unending onslaught. Even within a unit, however, the importance of the individual could not be discarded, for, particularly in this world, not all were created equal. Some were more skilled, more intelligent, and sometimes just downright luckier than others, and these were crucial factors to survival. So, the individuals took their own labels, titles in their own right that others could use to identify them in the units they took refuge within. This woman's title was Jayma.

Jayma had been a soldier on the front lines of the war with nature since the earliest days she could still recall from her increasingly full and fading memory. She had hunted with her father, and when he had fallen in battle with the dreaded mistress of the earth, she had hunted alone. Nature had left her many battle wounds to stain a once fair skin, but never had she fallen. Tonight, however, promised to be the final mêlée. As quietly as she could, with a torch in one hand, and a bundle of tightly wrapped cloth in the other, Jayma crept through the darkness that threatened to swallow her whole, were it not for the saving grace of the flame she carried. She had known fear before; it was a familiar mate she had shared her meals, her sleep, and even a few of her hunts with. As the years wore on, experience overtook fear, dulling its sharp sting. Over these past few months, however, the deadly pangs of terror and uncertainty had returned with a vengeance, welling up from within her very soul. Fear walked with her through woods this night, keeping her company on her lonely vigil.

It was this fear that caused her to stiffen up and crouch a little when she heard a soft rustling sound from somewhere nearby. In that instant, instinct took over. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, preparing her for the choice that her ancestors before her had been making since they had come into existence: fight or flight? Before, the choice would have been an easy one. She fought more often than she fled, because to flee was to surrender, something that her father had taught her never to do. But this was a new Jayma, a Jayma whose world had changed exponentially since the days of her long past youth. Her old hunting instincts had been replaced by new and far more powerful ones. She obeyed these instincts now, and broke into a frantic sprint toward a nearby ridge that, if her memory served her correctly, would be her salvation. The soft rustling grew into the sounds of brush being trampled and branches broken. It was just as she had feared; she was being hunted. The rustling soon became accompanied by heavy footfalls and deep growls as the saber-toothed tiger got closer and closer. Jayma gave in to temptation and glanced behind her. She should see the bright yellow eyes in hot pursuit, glinting with the light from the flame that was her only guide through the suffocating blackness, illuminating the ravenous creature's desire for blood.

It would not have hers, though. At long last there appeared before her a wall of moss and vegetation covered rock, into which nature had carved a crevice just large enough for Jayma to slip through. She dropped the torch, her only source of light, as she entered, however, and could only crouch in the darkness, the bundle of cloth held tightly to her chest, seeming to vibrate with the pounding of her own heart. The tiger reached the crevice only steps behind her, and roared ferociously, tearing its claws into the unyielding stone and throwing the full weight of its body behind a frantic effort to reach its meal, to tear into the elder huntress's flesh. It was all in vain, however, for no matter how strong the tiger had been made, nature had created something far stronger: stone. After some time of attempting to force its way into the crevice, the beast seemed to give up with a howl of frustration and disappointment before heading off into the darkness.

Even after the tiger had disappeared from view Jayma did not dare move for what felt like an age. Slowly, her heart beat slowed and her breathing returned to normal. After a few more minutes of intent listening, she even worked up the courage to return to the crevice's entrance and retrieve the still burning torch. She jammed the end into a smaller crack in the wall of the crevice, thus permitting her some illumination in her dank hiding place. Suddenly, there came a sound from the bundle of cloth in her hand, a continuous wailing.

"Shhhhhhh." Jayma whispered as she peeled back a section of the cloth to reveal the red and tear striped face of an infant, no more than four months old. The child had its mothers brown eyes, but its nearly jet black hair was a resonance of its father. Despite the quiet reassurances of its mother, the baby continued to express inconsolable distress. Finally, in bid to silence her child's frantic wails lest they attract other unwanted attention, Jayma pulled back the fur hiding one of her breasts and brought the child's lips to her nipple where it began to suckle greedily. As the child fed, she cooed into its ear and gently rocked it, hoping to return it to the realm of sleep from whence it had stirred. As she did so, Jayma looked out through the crevice at the night sky, sprinkled with its familiar bright dots of light and large, glowing disk that had illuminated her way on many a previous hunt. Now, however, her thoughts were not on a hunt, or even on the sky itself really (whose mysteries she was found of pondering when time allowed), but on the father of the baby that now weaned from her breasts, and how she come to the pass in which she now found herself; trapped, like an animal in a snare…

* * *

The events that led to Jayma's pregnancy and ultimate flight from the Wenja village had begun shortly after the time of cold and snow had ended. The white glistening surface had given way to the greens, blues, yellows, and all other manner of colors displayed in festive merriment by the plants and trees. Roshani had insisted that this was the time to begin planting their food that they would harvest in a few moons time. But plants alone had never satisfied her, and so Jayma had gone out on the hunt, as she had always done before when the cold winds ceased, the plants returned to life, and the animals returned in such plentiful numbers that she could stay out from the time the great bright disk arose from the earth to the time that it sank back into the bowls of the mountains bringing darkness across the land. About a week after the Wenja had begun their planting, Jayma was in her hut preparing to go out on yet another hunting expedition when the village leader, a large, powerful specimen named Takkar, had entered and requested that he be allowed to accompany her.

"If you can keep up, mammoth feet." She had told him with a teasing smile.

They had hunted before, her and Takkar, but this hunt would prove different. Something new pulsed in Jayma's veins, a feeling that had seemed to accompany the vanishing of the snow. As they searched across the valley for game, Jayma found her gaze becoming increasingly drawn to her companion, his well toned physique, his impressive jaw line, and his thick muscular thighs. Sometimes, while she was admiring those thighs, her gaze would fall upon the cloth of skin that hid his more personal regions and she would find herself wondering just what it looked liked beneath that single layer that divided him from her. The more time she spent with Takkar, the more she found herself looking, and the more the feeling within her veins would boil up and up from deep within her. She was being driven by an instinct of her own as she led Takkar deeper and deeper into the valley. Their hunting trip saw the great glowing disk vanish, then reappear, then vanish, then reappear again, and then vanish, and then reappear. On this third day, Takkar spotted a particularly fine looking elk and shot a single arrow into its neck. The beast reared and fled, leaving her and Takkar to track it down to a small basin in some far corner of the valley that housed a single pond.

By then the elk had suffered such blood loss that it could barely remain standing. Pulling out his knife of flint, Takkar had approached the barely alive creature and ended it suffering by plunging the sharpened stone into its neck. As she watched him masterfully bring an end to the animal's suffering, Jayma felt the deep rumbling within her turn into an ache, an ache that led her to do something she never thought she would do. No sooner had Takkar laid the animal's lifeless head upon the grass then she walked right up to him and kissed him forcefully upon his lips. Takkar seemed startled at first, but did not fight back as she hungrily devoured his mouth with her own. Before long, he even seemed to become involved himself; his tongue entered into a stubborn wrestling match with hers. While the kiss continued, and even escalated, Jayma ran her callous covered hands over the firm muscles in those arms she had spent the last three days admiring, and then over the well toned torso before making their way lower to the thing that had occupied her thoughts the most of late. It was firm, and increasingly hard the more she touched it through the cloth, and it grew in length as she stroked it. Takkar let out a grunt and pulled away from her, causing Jayma to fear that she may have angered him.

This was soon proven to not be the case, however. Takkar grabbed Jayma by the shoulder firmly, yet tenderly and spun her around so that her back was pressed against his hair covered chest. His large hands ran over her own stomach and chest, gently cupping and massaging both her breasts which sent a pleasant sensation from her nipples throughout the rest of her body, causing her to gasp in pleasure and arch her back. With another grunt, Takkar gently pushed her forward and she stumbled a bit before her legs hit the corpse of the elk. Jayma lost her balance and fell to her knees. Takkar too dropped to his own knees and, with the same purposeful, yet tender, grip pushed Jayma down until she was leaning over the dead elk, her partially exposed breasts brushing against the coarse hair of the beast. Jayma's breath came in ragged pants as she felt Takkar's hands move down her back slowly, as if worshiping the scarred yet beautiful skin he found there. Those hands eventually reached the skin cloth that hung around her waist and began to pull it off. Jayma understood what was happening, she had had a mate at one time, but he too had met his end on the battlefield against nature, just as her father had. Over the course of her kiss with Takkar, she had become increasingly aware of the sensation of moisture that had been forming between her legs. Now, as her loin cloth dropped from her body, she became even more acutely aware of how moist she was and how much she ached, longing to be filled.

Takkar did not disappoint. As soon as they had freed Jayma from her nether garments, his hands went to work on his own. She glanced back at him and was rewarded with a brief glimpse of his own sacred part, firm and steady, just like the man himself. Takkar positioned himself behind her and, in a single thrust, slated at last the nagging emptiness from within her. Jayma cried out in pleasure, and began to moan as Takkar began thrusting his hips mechanically. Every now and again he would let out his own grunts of pleasure as they continued at a steady pace. Jayma's moans grew in volume and intensity as a well of pleasure began to fill within her belly. The more Takkar thrust behind her, the greater the well filled until it seemed to overflow, causing her body to spasm in a rhythmic sensation of euphoric pleasure, which she voiced by crying out her lover's name. For how long they continued like this Jayma neither knew nor cared. Takkar gave her the same feeling of uncontrollable ecstasy two more times before he began to pick up the pace with his own thrusts and his grunts became more audible. Jayma recalled what this signified from her own days with her mate and let out an exclamation. While she certainly had been enjoying herself, the idea of Takkar releasing his nectar within her and possibly siring a child frightened her. Though she had been unable to put her fears into proper words, Takkar seemed to get the message and suddenly the feeling of emptiness returned to her. Jayma glanced back and saw that one of Takkar's hands had disappeared from her view in between his legs, and his arm was shaking vigorously. Suddenly, he gave a deep, throaty, drawn out moan as he leaned against Jayma, and she vaguely felt something warm splash onto one of her thighs. Takkar had resisted the urge to spill his seed within her, and instead had spread it upon the ground and her thigh, and a little had even made it onto the coat of the elk they had hunted together.

For a while neither of them moved, and Jayma lay her head down on the chest of the elk while she huffed and puffed to try and catch her breath. Takkar lay his head down on her back and did the same. Eventually, they both stood and replaced their loin clothes before Takkar wordlessly skinned and butchered the elk, adding the spoils to their growing collection. All the way back to the village neither of them spoke of their moment of intimacy. They talked, of course, but mostly it was jokes or gossip from about the village. Each was careful to avoid the subject. Jayma understood the difference between love and lust, and she soon came to the conclusion that what she had experienced was more the latter than the former. They returned to the village with a good haul that earned them both the praise of several of the villagers, and even Tensay. Over the next few days, Jayma convinced herself that what had occurred during that fateful hunt would only be a onetime event.

But she was to prove wrong.

Of course, the days of good hunting were only just beginning, and Jayma went out on many more of her excursions. At first, she went alone. Then, some days after their first hunt of the season together, Takkar came and asked that he be allowed to accompany her again. She did not refuse him, and they set out into the valley once more. The pair had spent a productive day hunting game and then, once again, copulated that night upon making camp. That was how it would go for the rest of the season. They would go out hunting, mate, and then return. Sometimes it was during the day, sometimes at night, sometimes after a kill, sometimes Jayma would be aiming an arrow directly at her quarry when Takkar would over take her, pin her against a tree, and take her. She never resisted or objected, in fact, as the season wore on, she welcomed the mating sessions more and more. It was like a ritual, and like all rituals, it had its guidelines. The most important of these was that Jayma never permitted Takkar to seed her. He would always share his nectar with the ground, or the outside of her body, but never within. On one occasion, after a particularly successful day, she even allowed him to release his seed in her mouth.

For all of the boasting of her skill as a huntress, something did sneak up on Jayma that season. At first her mating sessions with Takkar had been more to fulfill that feeling of aching emptiness within her, but as they continued, she began to feel something more. She began to miss Takkar's company when she went out alone on solitary hunts, and even began asking him to accompany her more often. The sessions increased in frequency, nearly every day they went out hunting they copulated. One night, Jayma even snuck into Takkar's cave and mated with him right there in the village. Her thoughts were increasingly occupied by him, and she began to long for his presence. By the end of the season, Jayma began to realize that her sessions with Takkar had led to something far more serious than they had meant before. She had fallen in love with the village leader, she wanted to be with him always, to share her hunts with him by day, and her body by night.

However, this realization was soon embittered, like the waters of the river when the dead had been left to rot within them.

Near the end of the good hunting season, there was a great feast in the village. During the feast, Takkar suddenly announced to all present that he was to take Sayla as his mate. The couple had stood before the entire village as they applauded them, all except Jayma, who stood near the back of the crowd in utter shock, a sick feeling growing in her stomach as she watched Takkar and Sayla kiss. The shock soon gave way to rage, and she began to plot various ways in which to kill that wicked woman who had usurped her lover. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that killing Sayla would only alienate Takkar from her further, and force her into exile, hunted by her own people. So she bit her tongue as Tensay gave the couple his blessing, when Takkar built them a new hut, and when the happy couple moved in together, and even when Sayla confided to her that she was with child. She kept her piece, and Takkar ceased accompanying Jayma on her hunts. Still, as the suns disappeared and reappeared, the familiar feeling of emptiness and longing began to fill her belly once more. She was rent in inner agony every time that she saw Sayla kiss her beloved Takkar, and some days it took all she had not to pick up a stone axe and drive it right into the whore's head. For many nights afterward she would dream of Takkar, of the things they had done together. After a while, she began to use her own hands to bring herself the pleasure and ecstasy she had known all that season, but it never managed to slake the burning desire within her. At last, as the weather began to turn and she could stand it no longer, Jayma went to Takkar and requested that he accompany her on one last hunt before the snows came. Though he appeared reluctant, Takkar agreed.

So they went out on one last hunting trip. For two days they hunted, and spoke very little. The tension was most palpable. On the third and final day, Jayma finally decided that it was time to address the subject. However, rather than talking, as she had originally intended, she approached Takkar as he was seated at their campfire roasting meat for his evening meal, and the second he looked at her with those deep brown eyes she lost all self control and smashed her lips into his. This time Takkar resisted, pushing Jayma away and scolding her for tempting him into betraying his mate. Jayma, with tears streaming down her face, angrily accused Takkar of betraying her, beating her fists against his chest. Takkar struggled to restrain her and, in the ensuing scuffle, the pair once again locked lips. This time, he did not resist and before long they were both free of their coverings and making love as they had done so often before. Only this time, Jayma broke her cardinal rule. She had missed him so much, and was so afraid of losing him forever after this (for she held no illusions, this brief moment of wild passion would be their last) that she did not object or even attempt to stop him when his pace increased and, after a few more wild thrusts, he released his seed within her.

It was indeed their last time together. Afterward, Takkar made it clear that he would no longer 'hunt' with Jayma and he was true to his word. In fact, he rarely spoke to her after that final night, and when he did so it was in a very curt manner. But that was not the end of it, the price of that final night would prove to be a high one. Jayma became increasingly concerned when she missed her bleeding, and her concerns grew into fears as each successive day past and no blood came. She began to feel sick in the mornings, and began to crave certain foods. She recognized the symptoms, for she had seen them many times before in her years. She was with child…Takkar's child. Fear was replaced by blind panic. She feared the shame that would come with such a child and the damage it would bring to both her and Takkar's statuses in the village (for the village itself had long been rife with rumors about Takkar and Jayma's 'special hunting trips'), and that Takkar himself might just kill her if he discovered her condition. So, one night, after the majority of the village had gone to sleep, she slipped off into the night, never to return. She took only what she needed, the clothes on her back and her trusty long bow and a quiver of arrows. She hunted as best she could and stored up dried meat for when her condition became too prevalent to permit such exertion. Then, one night what seemed like an eternity later, she gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. She named him Tiaan.

* * *

As he continued to suckle the milk from her breast, Tiaan's eyes slowly slid shut and he drifted back off into a distant sleep. His mother was not so lucky. She continued to stare at the stars above. Sometimes she would curse them, and any gods or goddesses that sat in regent above them, for condemning her to such a fate. Sometimes she would lose herself in much happier memories, of her hunts with Takkar, of their passionate lovemaking, and of the brief hope she had entertained that, perhaps someday, they might have become a mated pair and lived the rest of their lives (no matter how short) together. But those days were gone. Jayma the huntress had fallen, and in her stead was the Jayma the mother. She glanced down at the now calm and serene face of her baby boy, and tears began to stream from her eyes. What would be her fate, she could not say, nor could she predict her child's ultimate destiny. She could only hope that, somehow, he could make it through the long days ahead, for nature was not a forgiving mistress. She took no pity on the infirm or the young. Even for children, the never ending war was omnipresent.

So they lay in a crevice in a forgotten valley; a forgotten mother with a forgotten son who, it seemed, even the stars had turned their back on.

* * *

 **Hello all, this was just a little something that I came up with while lying in bed one night. I don't plan on expanding on it really, it was meant to be more of a one-shot (I know, not exactly the happiest ending). Still, hope you enjoyed.**


	2. The Rising Gatherer

The Rising Gatherer

For the fourth time since he had come to the valley, Takkar witnessed the snows disappear and the plants return to life as their branches became endowed by the lush green that had greeted him on his arrival in Oros what felt like a lifetime ago. Roshani had come to him, insisting that the Wenja start planting their food for the next year and Takkar saw to it that his instructions were carried out. Several long strips of land which ran alongside the stream that flowed through the Wenja village were tilled up using strange wooden tools that Roshani helped them make. Thus the waters that had given life to the villagers would now give life to their food that, if the Izilia was right, would feed them the next time the cold winds came. Everyone in the village, even the young, was required to pitch in some way or another. There were grumbles from a few. Some seemed to think the whole thing an Izilia trick that was meant to distract the Wenja from hunting so that they might starve come the lean days, but Takkar stuck by his decision and the fields were sown, for the most part, successfully (there was a small incident with Urki involving some aggressive birds who wanted the seeds he was scattering).

Sayla proved to be the most helpful. She had long cultivated whatever the earth could give her to survive on, and she handed that knowledge down to her fellow Wenja. She oversaw the sowing of the fields, helped develop better methods of planting, and she and Roshani would often spends hours talking about the possible yield of that years "crop," and how to increase the size of the next. She was endowed with a seemingly mystical connection to the soil and had chosen, along with Roshani, the sites for the fields. This is what she was doing on a pleasantly warm day when Takkar found himself staring at her from a distance. Her eyes sparkled with a renewed purpose, a sense of wellbeing that Takkar had not seen in them before. As he leaned against the tree he stood beneath, the village leader's eyes began to wander over her body. She was a most beautiful woman. Her legs were strong and curved, as was her torso, upon which were two well developed breasts. Slowly, his eyes made their way down from those breasts and to her rear as she bent over to cover a seed over with dirt. Her fur coverings lifting as she did so giving him a tantalizing view of her upper thighs, and he found himself willing the covering to slide even higher, to reveal to him the secret jewel that lay between those immaculate thighs.

Takkar was brought out of this trance like stare by an increasingly tight and discomforting feeling from his nether region. He glanced down to see that his body, like his brain, had reacted to the sight before him, threatening to give away what his thoughts had been dwelling on to anyone who happened to look. In response, he speedily strode away from the tree and toward his cave where he could be alone. The majority of the villagers were working in the fields, so thankfully the village was fairly empty, and he was able to make it to his cave without the embarrassing bulge in his loincloth being noticed. Once in the privacy of his cave, Takkar removed the garment and used his hand to satisfy the cravings of his member. He had done this before, many times in fact, and he knew just what the reaction he had had to Sayla meant.

When he was younger, Takkar had known a girl about his age who lived in the same village as him. The girl would often tease and make fun of him. One day she stole his bow and led him on a chase through the forest. After he had caught the girl, they wrestled over the bow until, suddenly, she had kissed him. The pair had ended up copulating there in the middle of the forest, and Takkar had often wondered if it meant they were to be a mated pair, but then the girl and her family had left for more fertile hunting grounds and he never saw her again. For some time afterward he would think about her and their passionate mating session, and his body would have the same reaction as it did for Sayla. He would then go off alone and take care of the urge himself, as he was doing now. However, even as he reached release, Takkar knew that the urges he was feeling now were just the beginning.

For some reason that he never could understand, they would always come back just after the snows melted, and they would stay with him for many days, the overwhelming desire to copulate with a woman. While the use of his hand somewhat dulled these urges in the short run, it was somehow never enough. He longed for the feeling of copulation, as he had felt that day in the forest with that girl, what felt like a lifetime ago. Only this time it wasn't the girl on his mind, it was Sayla. He wanted her, desired her, but did she want him? Clearly the girl in his old village had desired him, he saw that now that he was older and a bit wiser, but what of Sayla? What if she did not want him? Strangely enough, the more Takkar thought about it, the more nervous he became. Surely he, Takkar, the beast master, the leader of the settlement he now called home, a warrior who had nearly singlehandedly brought two rival tribes to their knees, was not afraid to ask a woman if she desired him? His prowess as a hunter was unbound, surely he could have any woman he wanted if he so chose.

" _Hunting."_

Without knowing it, his brain had provided him with an excuse, or at the very least, a distraction. After putting back on his loin cloth, Takkar left his cave and made for the hut of Jayma, the village huntress. If Takkar was the best hunter in the village, Jayma came in a close second. She was a powerful woman, covered in scars of battles she had fought and won. Though perhaps not as young or as beautiful as Sayla, it was not her appearance that made Jayma what she was, but the aura of power and confidence that hung about her like a shroud. She was a woman of destiny, a warrior unparalleled in the wild, and a wise hunter. She had lived the stories of heroes that Takkar had been raised on, and for that he respected her more than any other woman in the village. As he approached her hut, he noticed that the huntress was loading arrows, flint knives, and other supplies into an animal skin bag, obviously preparing to go on a lengthy hunt. As he watched her pack, the idea came to him that he should join her. Some time away from the village, and Sayla, might allow his mind to come to a decision concerning the gatherer. So he approached Jayma and requested that he be allowed to accompany her.

"If you can keep up, mammoth feet." Jayma teased him with a smile.

Her teasing sometimes reminded him of that girl from his old village, and he smiled back at the jest before heading back to his cave to gather his own supplies. They set off into the valley and were gone for at least three sunrises. Over the course of those days, Takkar could not stop thinking about Sayla, and the image from the other day of her bending over made continuous reappearances in his mind's eye. On the third day, Takkar spotted a majestic elk that he managed to shoot with an arrow, causing the animal to bolt. After several hours of tracking the blood left behind by the grievously wounded creature, they at last located it in a basin that was home to a small pond. The elk was barely alive, and Takkar chose to end its suffering by plunging his knife into its neck. No sooner had he snuffed out its dying light then Jayma approached him and forcefully kissed him on the mouth. Takkar was surprised and confused at first. As her mouth devoured his, however, he began to kiss her back. It reminded him a great deal of that day in the woods with the girl, and for the moment any thoughts of Sayla fled his mind as he became lost in the sensation of her lips upon his. He followed the same instinct that he had that day in the woods and, before long, he was mating with Jayma over the body of his kill. Despite how wonderful it felt to finally copulate again, he managed to retain enough self control to withdraw from the huntress before releasing his seed, as she had seemed to indicate she did not want him to do so within her.

With the end of the session came the old confusions, however. Did this mean he was mated to Jayma now? She was a woman of great prestige and skill, but somehow Takkar could not help but still think of Sayla, with her beautiful eyes and smooth skin. He was torn, between his new experience with the huntress, and his desire for the gatherer. This rending of his mind caused Takkar to stay silent on the issue for entirety of the journey home. He and Jayma spoke at length of the new farming techniques (which Jayma expressed considerable skepticism over) and some of the rumors that had been going around the village, such as the fact that Urki had tried to make "water armor" using hollowed out reeds and some strange clothing made out of a bendy, stretchy substance that Tensay made out of special sap from a certain tree. Their mating session, however, was completely absent from the conversation, and Takkar found himself wondering if Jayma was experiencing the same doubt and confusion that he was. Upon their return to the village, they were praised for such a handsome haul, but Takkar could not shake the troubling feeling from his heart.

That night he dreamed of Jayma and the things they had done in that clearing where only the dead elk had born witness. In the morning he saw Sayla once again, and her cheerful smile and chipper inquiry as to how the hunting trip had gone left him feeling torn once more. She was so beautiful, and he wanted her, but now his eyes were also drawn to Jayma, who spent the day tanning the hides of the animals they had hunted. He watched her hands run over the animal skins, and imagined the feeling of those hands running over his own skin once again, leaving it tingling. Suddenly, the leader of the Oros Wenja had a dilemma. Here were two women who he found himself desiring, but there major differences between them. One had smooth skin, barely touched by the ravages of age, and a pair of eyes that shone whenever he approached with a youthful exuberance. The other, while perhaps neither as young nor as smooth skinned, had a look of steely confidence in her own light brown eyes that seemed to hold an understanding of the world that only a woman such as her, who had long survived the hardships and pleasures that life had to offer, could have.

There was one difference between the two women that carried the most weight for Takkar: Jayma had made it clear that she desired him. It had been she who had instigated their copulation in the clearing, just like the girl from his village, while Sayla's own feelings toward her mighty leader were much muddier. Sure she always looked happy to see him, but every time that Jayma looked at Takkar he could see that brief look of lust and small knowing smile that played across her face. Before long, the urges returned, seemingly hungrier now after having been given a small taste during the hunt. So Takkar, after much thought, decided to go with the option that seemed more assured of success. He accompanied Jayma on yet another hunting trip, only this time it was he who initiated the mating session after they had made camp for the night.

That was how the rest of the summer went. Takkar, any time he felt the urges return, would accompany Jayma out on her hunts and they would mate. Sometimes he initiated it, sometimes she did, but as the day wore on, the hunts became more frequent. Slowly but surely, Sayla began to slip from his fantasies. Takkar often found himself dreaming of Jayma, and when they were not out on a hunt and he felt the need to relieve himself, Takkar would rub out a release while thinking of Jayma; her breasts, the moans she would make during their sessions, and sometimes the rare occasions where she would use her mouth to satisfy him, something he had never experienced before. Before long, the pair were going out on hunting trips almost every week, and there was even one night when Jayma had snuck into his cave and copulated with him right there in the village.

As the sessions continued, Takkar began to notice something else too. After copulating with him, Jayma began insisting that they sleep in the same bed of skins together, and she would hold him while asleep with her faced pressed tightly against his chest. She began to kiss him more often, not just during their copulation, but even when they were hunting or even walking together, and sometimes she would even steal one or two in the village when no one was looking. Takkar's mind would every now and again wonder to Sayla, especially when she was nearby and he could spend time just looking at her.

Then, one day, as the cold began to slowly return and the plants had reached the height at which Roshani declared they were ready to be harvested, something happened that changed everything.

The village had spent the majority of the day harvesting the fields and storing the food in animal skin bags which were then moved into a special cave that had been set aside for storage purposes. This went on until the sun had dipped low and threatened to disappear behind the stone visage of the mountains. The valley was bathed in the beautiful, majestic orange of the dying sunlight and most of the villagers returned home for the night. All of them, except for Sayla who stayed behind to finish filling up two more bags with crops before dragging them toward the storage cave. On the way, she ran into Takkar and asked him to assist her. He did so, grabbing both bags, despite her objections that she could carry one, and taking them to the cave. Despite not carrying anything, Sayla accompanied him. Inside the cave he stacked the bags with the rest, and turned to leave when suddenly the whole stack fell over, a portion of it landing upon Sayla, who was knocked to the ground. A frantic Takkar quickly pulled the bags off of her and helped her to her feet. Despite insisting that she was alright, Sayla did not let go of her savior, nor did he her. For a moment they just stared into one another's eyes and then, slowly, their faces came closer and closer until their lips, hers trembling slightly, met in a fiery kiss the likes of which neither had never known. Their tongues wrestled together for a minute before they both pulled back to catch their breath. While doing so they could only stare into each other's eyes and, at long last, Takkar could see the desire in hers that he had long dreamed of seeing there. Slowly, much more tenderly, he kissed her again and ran his hand over her smooth face, so different from Jayma's own rough one.

Soon those hands traveled to other places, and she obligingly lifted her arms, allowing him to take off her single piece garment and freeing her body to the evening air. Takkar bent down and kissed those breasts which he had long dreamed of whenever he watched her. Gently he sucked on one of the nipples, garnering a short gasp and moan from Sayla, who's own hand was feeling his broad chest and back. Suddenly, Takkar brought his face back up to hers and began another passionate kiss. While he did so, Sayla reached down to his own loincloth and gripped it firmly before sliding it down his muscular legs. His privy member now free, Sayla reached down to touch and stroke him, eliciting a grunt of his own. She gasped in surprise when he suddenly, but tenderly, lifted her up and carried her in his arms to the pile of tipped over bags which he gently lay her down on. The animal skin was not the most comfortable thing to lie on, but she did not seem to care as they returned to their battle of the tongues. Sayla spread her legs, allowing Takkar to settle between them. Takkar returned his attention to her breasts, kneading both of them and playing with the nipples, which caused her to moan some more. Then, one of the hands made its way down her abdomen to the sacred forest between her legs that hid her most precious of possessions. This drew another, far throatier, moan from Sayla as she bucked her hips a little in response to the ministrations of his hand. After another heated kiss, Takkar gripped his member and slowly guided it home. Sayla gave a cry of pain, one that Jayma had never made, even during their first session. It reminded Takkar of his first mate, the girl at his village, who had made a similar sound and he stopped pushing in, allowing Sayla to take a moment to breath heavily.

After a minute or so, she nodded her assent and he pressed on until he could go no further. Takkar paused for another minute until the look of discomfort on Sayla's face gave away to a look of pleasure and he began the steady, now familiar to him, motions of pulling out of her before firmly thrusting back in. Sayla's moans grew louder, spurring him on as they mated with a furry that only months of pent up sexual frustration could, for even after all of those nights with Jayma, Takkar had dreamt of this moment. Sayla wrapped her legs around his lower back, urging him to go deeper if he could, which he did, as well as picking up speed. Takkar was not sure how long they made love. He gave Sayla her first taste of ultimate ecstasy at one point, and it was not long after that that he began to feel his own release building up in his loins. A few more rapid thrusts later and a long guttural moan escaped his lips as he released his nectar within her, something that Jayma had never allowed him to do during the many mating sessions they had had. Takkar collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily and spilling any leftover seed in her. He then withdrew from her, but did not stand up. Instead, he lay down next to her, and Sayla reached over and began to gently stroke his chest. For a time there was just silence between them.

Takkar, for his part, spent that silence pondering where he was to go from here. While he had never officially taken Jayma as his mate, it was very likely, the way she had been behaving toward him of late, that she was fond of him and would not be happy on finding out that he had given himself to both her and Sayla. So for the second time that summer, Takkar the Beast Master had to make a decision between the two women, one who had sought him, the other who he had sought. He would have been lying to himself if he had said he did not care for Jayma. He did, and even now as he lay in the aftermath of mating with Sayla, he was thinking of the grey-haired huntress. He had once had a dream where he had copulated with both women, taking one while the other watched, and vice versa, but now this was not a dream, this was reality. He had longed for Sayla for some time now, but now that he had finally had her, he felt more conflicted than before.

"So….am I your mate then?" the question came from Sayla's beautiful lips, and Takkar was so surprised by it that he did not even really get to think about a response before the word left his lips….

"Yes."

Well, that was that. Sayla had smiled and kissed him on his lips before asking him to accompany her back to her tent. Once there, they copulated a second time before spending the night in each other's arms. The next day, Tensay suggested that the village hold a feast to celebrate the successful harvests. Takkar had agreed, and Sayla, upon hearing the news, had suggested that they use the feast to announce their new status as a mated pair. Despite some lingering hesitation, Takkar agreed. So, during the feast the next day, Takkar stood and announced before every Wenja present that he had taken Sayla the Gatherer as his mate for life. The village had roared its approval, and Tensay even gave his blessing to the union. Only Jayma stayed silent, and Takkar briefly glanced at her, seated at the back of the feast tables, and could see a very displeased, almost angry, look on her face. Had he made the right choice?

That did not matter anymore, Sayla was his mate, declared before the whole village, and Takkar set out to do what a great warrior did for his mate. He built a hut for the two of them, leaving behind his cave and the memory of that night he and Jayma had mated within its stone walls. The couple moved in together and, several sunrises afterward, Sayla revealed that she was with child. Takkar was ecstatic, at last he would have children of his own and a family to raise and be proud of. But in amongst all of the happiness and love was that lingering form in the shadows of his mind: his guilt over Jayma. He rarely spoke to her now, and she rarely even _looked_ at him. More than once he considered pulling her aside and trying to talk with her or even possibly apologize for how far things had gone between them, but every time he was paralyzed by the same fear and uncertainty that had kept him from Sayla and driven him into her arms in the first place.

Things remained as they were until one day, as the leaves began to change color and the cold winds returned to Oros once more, Jayma came to him and asked (although demanded may have been a better description) that he accompany her on her last hunt of the season. Takkar hesitated. What if something happened between them while out amongst those trees where they had done so much before? Still, he realized this might finally give them the opportunity they needed to talk things out, so he agreed. So they set off into the wilderness one last time, and it was more awkward than even their trip back after their first mating session. This time they hardly spoke to each other, and only when it was necessary. It seemed as though they were both waiting for the other to break the ice. Finally, after three sunrises of silence, they set up camp for the evening and, while he was cooking a hunk of meat over the fire for his dinner, Jayma approached him. At first Takkar thought she might finally break her silence, for she had a most determined look on her face. Instead, she paused briefly, staring intently into his eyes and then kissed him fiercely. The kiss caught him off guard at first, but Takkar quickly recovered and stood up, pushing Jayma away as he did so. He then admonished her for trying to tempt him into breaking the bond with his mate.

" _A great warrior stays faithful to his mate."_

These were the words his father had told him, and he was determined to follow them. Jayma, however, angrily retorted that it had been he who had betrayed her, tears flowing down her face as she screamed her accusations. But how could he have betrayed her? The only reason things had ever happened the way they had was because Takkar had wanted Sayla. He had always wanted her, but how could he explain that to Jayma? The huntress did not give him a chance. She ran up to him and began to beat her fists against his chest. Takkar grabbed her hands and struggled to push her back. The struggle continued for a few minutes until, with Takkar practically on top of her, Jayma seemed to give in. He relaxed his grip and she suddenly leaned up and kissed him once more. This time Takkar did not resist, he did not have the will. Her soft lips on his brought back a flood of memories of all they had done, all of the nights of passion and lust, all of the hunts and beds shared. He could not resist, and so he gave himself to her. Right there in the camp next to the fire the huntress and the warrior copulated one last time. Only this time they did something they had never done before: Jayma allowed him to release his seed within her.

" _A great warrior stays faithful to his mate."_

Takkar had failed, as a warrior, as a mate, and as a man he had failed. He had been unfaithful, and the guilt filled him to the brim as he lay in the dirt like some kind of animal with Jayma's naked form lying beside him. No, there would be no more. He told her as much; this would be the last time; it had to be the last time. There would be no more hunts and no more mating sessions. They were done.

Jayma did not say anything…

* * *

The days came and went. Takkar and Jayma had not spoken, or even come near one another since their last night together. He did not want to see her anyway. Then, one day, the awkwardness came to an end. That morning the villagers awoke to find that Jayma was not in her hut. Her bow and quiver were gone, and most assumed that she had gone hunting. However, as the days went by and Jayma did not return the villagers became concerned. Eventually, a group of Wenja went out to search for her and, after several days, they returned empty handed. Takkar had never expected them to find her. Jayma was a huntress, a mistress of the night. If she did not want to be found, she would not be, and she did not want to be found, Takkar was certain of that. She had left for a reason that only the two of them would ever know. Perhaps it was better this way. Sayla gave birth to a healthy baby girl, whom the parents named Dyma, and the trio lived as a happy family in their hut built by Takkar's own two hands. His daughter would hear many stories of her father, of his hunting skills, his prowess in combat, and his courage as a warrior. The legend of Takkar would live on in the hearts of the Oros Wenja for years to come, but there was always one part of the legend that was forgotten, or in fact, had never really been known in the first place.

The fallen huntress and a tiny life she had born him that was forgotten and lost in the forests of time.

* * *

 _ **I know I said that it was going to be a one-shot, but I decided to write a second half from Takkar's point of view. I hope you lot enjoyed it.**_


End file.
